Bliss
by PerProteggere
Summary: Being newly married proves to be an erotic adventure for Elliot and Olivia. Strictly E/O honeymooning.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters.**

**A/N: A new one.**

There's something about Olivia in a bathing suit, that does crazy things to him. He turns, two martini's in hand, and watches her shift her legs, rubbing them together against the towel she lays on, as she raises her hands over her head. Her long, tanned fingers dig into the sand, pushing the warm grains into her palms.

In the midst of her actions, he catches a glimpse of the gold and diamond ring on her finger. The one he put there, just days ago. Olivia arches her neck back and smiles back at him, taking her hands out from beneath the sand. He wishes she would have stayed like that, so he could lay down beside her and run his fingers over the edges of her bikini top. Her skin is the softest thing he's felt. Her body on his is indescribable.

It's funny, he used to say to himself, _"I'll marry her one day."_ But now, he finds himself saying, _"I can marry her over and over again, every day for the rest of our lives." _

She moves, sitting up and crossing her legs. Her breasts are contained by the deep purple material, and he loves how her figure has been gently marked by age. It makes her all the more beautiful, to him. The white scar along her elbow attracts his eyes when she reaches for her drink, but he dismisses it and looks at the way she bites her lip to keep from smiling, although she fails. Olivia sips her drink while he settles behind her, spreading his legs in order for her to scoot back and lay against him.

It's perfect, like this. It's getting late and the air around them is still warm enough that Elliot doesn't require a shirt, and his wife doesn't require much of anything on either. His free hand rests on her hip, while the other brings the martini he finished making just minutes ago to his lips. When the liquid settles in his stomach, he thinks about the way her head lies on his chest now, and has almost every night for the past six months.

Now that he really thinks about it, he doesn't know if he could sleep without the weight of her head on him, or the feeling of her left arm draped over his torso.

Sometimes he finds himself wanting to tell her these inanimate thoughts, but it comes out as something different. Tonight, on this beach, his words release in Italian. "Tu sei la donna più bella che abbia mai visto." _"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." _

He expects her to turn around and give him a warning look, because she has always hated compliments. Before their wedding, however, he had told her she was stunning. Elliot had automatically prepared for her to roll her eyes and tell him to stop doing that, but instead she smiled at him, a blush creeping up her cheeks. At that moment, he knew he was one step closer to making her believe she truly is beautiful. She has every right to know the truth. "Grazie, bambino." _"Thank you, baby." _

It's the way they laugh together, the sound coming out slow and gradual, just like this trip has proceeded so far.

_A real honeymoon,_ he ponders. Throughout the now thirteen years they've known each other, he's not really sure when he started seeing her as more of a wife, and less of just a partner. He welcomes that feeling, however. When she sets her drink down in the sand, a few long sips missing from it, he pulls the hair on the left side of her head back and over her shoulder. He revels in the softness of her, that even after six months of being close to her, having the permission to freely touch her. Somehow, she gave him this ability and he gladly took it. In return, Elliot gave her the same thing.

She touches him, now. Her fingers dance along the marred skin of his knee caps, scraped from the time he was a boy to about two weeks ago, when they hit the floorboards of the house they bought together. He hadn't been paying attention at the time, too busy pulling Olivia's legs onto his shoulders, too busy burying his face between her muscled thighs.

The corners of his mouth twitch at the thought. He brushes his mouth over the material of her bikini strap, and onto the skin of her right shoulder. Somewhere in the middle of their movements, she leans her head back on his shoulder, and moves her hand up to his thigh, over the material of his swimming trunks.

There's something beautiful about taking it slow, in his mind. He's all for fast and hard, especially if Olivia's legs are around his waist while he pushes into her, but he likes the idea of wasting time in a damn good way. Through every touch and caress, he loves to take care of her. He realizes now, that his main goal in having sex is to make Olivia feel good. His own pleasure doesn't matter, to him at least. Maybe it's a sign he's getting older. But as he'll get older with his new wife, he doesn't really care about aging, either.

His nearly full drink sits in the sand now, and both of his hands are on her, gliding along the expansions of her waist, her belly, her ribcage. Her mouth presses against the stubbly skin of his jaw, and he can't help the smile that stretches across his face.

Because he's _happy._

Before his relationship with Olivia began, he doesn't know if he was truly happy in life. He's got five wonderful children who have brought him great joy over the years, along with sorrow, but there was just a piece he was missing. When he kissed Olivia for the first time, he knew that void was slowly starting to fill.

She shifts, turning around to face him in his lap. His legs close together as her legs spread and settle on the outsides of his thighs. The gentle swaying of her hips sobers him, fixes him on her. She's a vision, on top of him. He closes his eyes and let's his lips find hers. She chuckles and it comes out partially as a moan, because she no longer holds back on letting him know what she likes, as she used to.

_Before._

He thinks of their life prior to him getting down on one knee as almost another life.

Olivia's tongue dips into his mouth and he knows now that she can feel his hardness pressing into her inner thigh. With her rocking in his lap, writhing almost, he's glad they picked a room on the water, with lots of privacy.

It's gorgeous in the Republic of Fiji. The water is warm, the days are hot. In his mind, it's exactly what they needed. He pulls away, planting his lips on her neck. His fingers flex as he holds her back, bringing her impossibly closer. When he whispers into her skin, she breathes a heavy, shaky sigh. "I want you..." It's all it takes for her to tip all of her weight onto him, urging him to fall back onto the towel.

When he does, her lips are on him, all over neck, and he believes he's the luckiest man alive. Maybe it's cliche of him to think so, but he can't really see anyone being more content than he is in this moment. She moves slow, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth as she runs her fingers over his thick arms, down to his hands. Their fingers move and twine together, and she rises up, her body moving with his. She sits up straight, the thin material of his shorts and her bottoms separating what he doesn't really see as a race to get to. He's fine, lying here, raising his hips languidly, pressing his erection against her heated core.

He's not blinded by love. If he's anything, he's more awakened by their new marriage.

Three days ago, Olivia Benson became Olivia Stabler. She wore a white summer dress that blew in the small amount of wind that occurred, and he wore a button down white t-shirt and slacks he eventually rolled up to avoid wet sand ruining them. He was happy with their decision to elope, because when the priest gave him permission, he ravaged her mouth with abandon and momentarily forgot that they had company. They had been breathless, and headed straight back to the hotel to consummate their marriage.

Even then, they had taken their time with each other. At least they had tried. The marriage wasn't about fucking and fighting, but rather about the companionship that he's sworn was there from the minute they met. No one person is dominant over the other, although if she asked him of anything, he would do it. She hasn't asked for much over the years. He understands her independence. He always has.

He smiles because three days and thirteen years ago, he was partnered with Olivia. All those years ago, she had been a rookie and he'd been in that seat not too long before. She had used her wit to break the ice between them, and he'll be forever thankful that his then partner, now wife, has an amazing sense of humor.

Although they'd had many downs along the way, he can only think of one word when he thinks of their relationship.

Bliss.

**A/N: Just a one shot, or would you like more Bliss?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters. **

**A/N: I am stunned by the amazing reviews everyone has left. I hope the word spreads about this fic and more and more read this. **

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><p>One thing he loves about Olivia, is that she's always honest. Even in silence, like they are tonight.<p>

Her fingers dig into his back and he can almost hear her murmuring in his ear, telling him she wants more. As he walks, the heels of her feet press on the curve between his lower back and his ass.

He had been thoughtful in his decision to carry her the half-dozen steps to the water's edge. There are two reasons he's now lowering her onto the wet sand; one of them being, he's aware that as much as Olivia tries to hide it, she's a romantic. He'll see the look in her eyes when he does something simple, like kissing her neck while she brushes her teeth. His second reasoning is the sand. Although they've both fallen in love with this cheap escape, the dry sand would be a hell of a lot messier than making love to Olivia at the water's edge.

With his thoughts pushing to the back of his mind, he refocuses his efforts on her. He sits on his knees between her legs, one hand tangled in her now knotted hair, the other on her left breast. The warm Fiji water comes and goes in waves beneath them, and he likes that it adds a bit of saltiness to her skin.

"El," She pants, arching her neck as he licks and sucks a particularly sensitive spot. He could spend all day with his lips on her neck, because he's fascinated with the way she squirms and writhes. His hard length presses on her abdomen, and he can't let himself ruin this moment by pushing her bottoms aside and thrusting into her hard and fast like a part of him desperately wants to.

Yet, the other, larger portion of his conscience is completely at ease. She arches up into him when her shoulders jerk, he looks down and notices she's taking off her bikini top. His smirk is wicked as he dips his head, and he uses his left hand to pull the material up enough to get his mouth on her nipples.

The water flows in and out beneath them, occasionally splashing high enough to leave water droplets on their bodies.

She's bare but for her bottoms, and he nearly groans when his eyes work down her torso. Her nipples are hard and he's almost gasping to breathe, to relieve some tension in his crotch. They're silent, but she touches his face and brings him out of his revere, and back to her. He loves when she smiles like this, when he knows she's so fucking happy. His eyes are glued to hers as she moves that hand, and the other, down his chest, to the strings on his blue swimming trunks.

When she frees him from the constraints of the waterproof material and begins stroking him, his right hand comes down hard onto the wet sand beside her head. He hovers above her face, watching her while she focuses on the task at hand- literally and figuratively. His other hand tugs at her bikini bottoms, urging her to let go of him so he can pull them off, but they both know he doesn't want her to stop.

It's a magnificent catch-22.

He sees the fire in her eyes, however, and gently pushes her hand away from his length. When he sits back on his knees and works her bottoms over the hips that his eyes have been drawn to for way too long, he thinks back on how they got here. Not just the long plane rides, but the first time they kissed. The thought alone makes his heart pound a little quicker.

They hadn't been drinking, but rather having a very serious and intense conversation that even when he was living in that moment, he could wrap his head around it. Her hands had shook because she was so frightened, so terrified that he was going to be angry with her. But he had done the opposite. He agreed with her statement, so much so that he was planning on doing this same thing that she was.

Quitting.

"_I'm burnt out," _Olivia had whispered through her trembling lips, taking sharp intakes of breath until he rested his hand on her thigh. She stopped her panic then, and leaned her head against the back of the couch. They had chosen to sit facing each other and he was glad in that moment, because he could see her entire face as he desperately tried to read her emotions. _"I'm sorry, El. So sorry..." _Her tears had spilled then and he knew that she was crying for the twelve years they spent together as partners, and for the future that she wasn't sure of.

He had looked at her long and hard and in a low, nearly in inaudible voice, he replied, _"I'm glad we're leaving together." _His then partner had gasped, her eyes searching his. They had worked a particularly hard, soul-sucking case together, and he knew in his heart and mind that him and Olivia just couldn't do it anymore.

The rare times when Olivia and him aren't together, he'll let his mind wander. What would his life turned out to be like if they kept working at SVU? But other times, he just couldn't bear the thought.

She had hugged him, when she defrosted from her shock. They'd clung to one another, his digits probably stretching the back of her shirt when he gripped it for dear life. He still remembers the way her hair and skin smelt, and how she shook in his arms, even when he pulled back but still had his arms around her. How he didn't even notice his eyes were shut until he felt her breath on his lips.

In that moment, he couldn't pull away.

Elliot was gravitated to her, and still is. He fought tooth and nail not to ravish her the way he wished, to take his time, because they were both scared. Come to think of it, they're still scared.

She pulls him back to reality, back to the beach that he still can't believe he's on with his new wife, naked as the day she was born. "El," Olivia's voice is a rumble from deep inside of her. He knows she only talks like this when she feels as though the teasing has gone on long enough. "What were you thinking about?"

He doesn't give her a direct answer, but pulls her bare legs around his waist. "I'll tell you later..." His voice is the same rumble as hers was, because even though they love to take their time, he doesn't want to beat around the bush until it's too late. On his elbows now, he kisses her without thinking as he pushes himself inside of Olivia.

It's all too much. But it's never enough.

Her body is nothing like any other woman's. Kathy's was too fragile, although he would never had said a word to her about it. When he got divorced the first time, the women he slept with were just a blur. They didn't mean anything to him because he was trying to wipe away the thought that even though his marriage was done, he wanted to jump into another one. Except this time, with Olivia. He'll never forgive himself for leading her on, making her believe that they were going to become more than partners before he slept with Kathy again, resulting in Eli. His latest offspring was one of the few reasons he stayed sane during his second divorce, another being his partner.

He's not a fucking thing without the woman beneath him. She almost whines when he pulls back and thrusts into her again, keeping his slow and deliberate pace. Her fingers are up and down his spine, moving over the muscles that contract and release with each powerful movement. He holds her right breast in his hand, squeezing it and tugging at the sensitive nipple.

It's the way she moves. One of her sandy hands caresses his face while her hips are circling. The scar on her neck isn't protruding, but when the sun hits it as her neck arches, his eyes are drawn to it.

Guilt.

She always tell him not to feel it. That it doesn't matter anymore, because they're together. But he still feels it occasionally. She kisses him deeply then, and his worries are temporarily restored by the mindset that he's inside of the woman that's been inside of him for thirteen years. Sometimes he doesn't know why she fell in love with him.

But when she looks up at him and smiles, there's a content part of him that's fine with not knowing. "I love you."

They're both so overtaken by the sensations and emotions that still flow. It makes it difficult for her to speak, but she manages. "I love you too." His lips press hard against hers when she finishes, but he pulls back to watch her eyes; widening and dilating. The fingers on Olivia's right hand grip the back of his neck don't pull, but she clings as she slowly loses a hold on herself.

He's a starving man when it comes to her. The feeling of her beginning to tighten around him in unexplainable. They don't count the seconds, minutes, or hours they spend making love. But he cherishes every experience with her. She's the kind of woman that makes him realize things about himself during sex.

She's also the kind of woman that scratches. He loves that she'll mark him and he's very aware of the possessiveness they both hold over one another. She's trying to thrust back against him, desperately. His lips twitch upwards when she moans loudly as his tongue moves over her nipples.

He's seen her age in the past six months. The lines in her face becoming deeper. But more importantly, how relaxed she's become. Six months ago she was tense and he wasn't sure if they would survive together. She's even more gorgeous when at ease.

Olivia cries out. He tries not to be affected by the rippling of her slick vice, but the love they make is almost painful in it's emotion. Her mouth is agape, sucking in as much air as possible before her approval sounds again. When he feels her fingernails scrape agonizingly down his back, he let's loose deep inside of her.

If this is what the rest of his life is going to be like, he's plenty fucking happy.

**A/N: Let me know what you think, loves.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order SVU or it's characters. **

**A/N: Just a quick little heads up- I thought about a part in this chapter that you'll hopefully read pretty hard. There's an aspect of a woman's life you cannot control, and I wanted to write that into this fic, because it's mainly focused on Elliot and Olivia not necessarily starting a "new life" together, but building and strengthening the relationship they already have. Enjoy!**

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><p>The first thing she feels as she wakes is his insistent erection pressing into the palm of her hand. Her arm usually rests on his lower stomach, but sometimes it slips, sometimes Elliot moves it. The position she actually sleeps in is somewhat diagonal. Her right foot usually dangles off the bed a bit, but it's the physical contact with her groom that she sleeps this way for. She ignores the sun on her face, and revels in the attention he's giving her.<p>

Because she'll always be selfish with him.

She knows he's awake by his breathing. He shutters at the end of every breath, like he's holding back. They're relationship is so in sync, so in-tact, but she keeps trying to assure him that it's okay to wake her up when he needs her. God only knows, she needs him too.

"Morning, baby." Olivia whispers, turning her head to look at him instead of the foot of the bed. He opens his eyes, and he'll forever startle her with the absolutely stunning blue of his irises. She loves the way he smiles first thing in the morning, like he's the fucking happiest man on earth. His fingers encounter her most likely knotted brown hair, gently pushing it back from the frame of her face.

Small gestures like this give her shivers. He knows it, too. On more levels than one, under all the layers at make him Elliot- he's still a man. A man doesn't like to see a woman weakened, but rather wanting more. His hand holds her neck, bringing her up to kiss her lips. She watches his eyes flutter shut and follows suit, making Olivia's heart give a few hard thumps.

When she speaks against his lips, Elliot smiles. "Do you want me to put on some coffee?"

They both love the coffee here. Fiji produces their beans right on one of the many islands that make up the Republic. Olivia is convinced that she'll hate the chlorinated beans that are in the coffee she buys back home as soon as she gets there. But she doesn't mind, not right now.

"No," His voice is thicker than usual. She smirks now, her fingers gliding down his soft yet rugged skin to brush her thumb over the tip of his cock. Adjusting, Olivia pulls herself up onto her knees, tucking her hair behind her right ear to allow Elliot to watch. When she licks the tip of his hard length and looks in his eyes, she realizes through the look in his eyes, that this a challenge. He's not going down without a fair fight.

They both chuckle as Elliot pulls her hips until she throws her right leg over him, effectively straddling his face and neck. She moans when he licks at her, but her focus needs to be on him. He's in her mouth, hard and hot. Elliot himself tries to distract her, tries to make her come before him. In revenge, she let's her eyes slip shut and relaxes her throat, because she knows he's big. This fact alone sends tingles down her spine, and then a rush of wetness between her legs. She whimpers but reminds herself of the goal that she's set. She'll make him come first, no matter how much it takes. His mouth works around her, however. He sucks her clit into his mouth, making it known it's his goal as well.

He's pulsing in her right hand, and in her left, his balls are tightening as she rolls them in her fingers.

The taste of him makes her mouth water. His clear secretions leak from the tip of his cock and she picks up the moisture with a few rapid flicks of her tongue. There's a quality in him that's so above average. Sure, he's big. But his personality and mind-set is so much bigger to her. So much more important. He changes from work to home, and that's what she loves. The transition into his most relaxed state.

The speed at which he licks her is slower, now. She loves when they go into this playfully, and always flow into a romantic session of gentle lovemaking. It's a reminder that they are unable to become caught in sex, because that's become such a small piece of what they really are.

Kissing the tip of his cock gently, she kneads his balls with her fingers, earning a hearty groan from Elliot. Her tongue finds the pulsing, outward vein that moves down his length because she's trying so desperately hard to not give in and dive head into that orgasmic bliss she knows is going to crash over her sooner than later. His stomach is quivering against hers, however. He's beginning to twitch not just in his groin, but his legs and even in her peripheral vision, his toes twitch and curl.

Elliot shifts beneath her but doesn't stop licking. She grasps his shaft and slips her hand up to the tip and down to the base, over and over. In this moment, Olivia looks at him through the small gap between their bodies. His cheeks are lifted into a smirk and she knows exactly why as he presses one of his fingers inside of her. She responds by sucking him deep into her mouth, and gliding her hand up and down the rest of his shaft. A second finger joins his already thrusting first, however, and she whimpers around his dick, knowing the vibrations drive him off the wall.

"I'm close..." Their combined moans, plus him talking makes her realize that this may be the loudest they've ever gotten. He's tensing beneath her, making herself proud of the fact she'll make him come first. He's dirty, though. He kisses and licks at her, sucking slowly and attentively.

His finger twists inside of her and she can't help the moan that comes out. "Me too," As the words spill from her mouth, she realizes how true her statement is. But she thinks of anything besides the need for release forming in her belly. At least, she tries.

Olivia wonders about everyone back home. She wonders about Eli. Has his vocabulary stretched farther? He's turning six soon. _Christ, it's gone by quickly, _she thinks. About three of those years, she thought she didn't have a chance in hell at being where she is now. That thought leads her to Kathy. There's a certain level of respect they have for each other, Olivia especially, but she sometimes thinks it may just be an act. In a woman, there will always be a jealous quality in them. But Olivia isn't jealous of their children because she's thankful they've been around for Elliot's sake, and in some cases, her own.

Her and Elliot are past wanting children. It was established early on in their relationship that neither of them were interested anymore, and feared that it would just be another nail in the wall that had been building between them. She needn't worry about getting pregnant, though. A few months ago, she stopped getting her period and Elliot, being the gentlemen he is, noticed but never said anything. She'd get the occasional headache and that's when she finally confronted him and told him flat out that they didn't have to buy condoms anymore. She would expect that a normal woman would cry over something like this. But she sees it as a new stage in her life.

She's pulled back to reality when Elliot's shuttering groan fills her ears. Moving her mouth faster on him, she creates a suction with her mouth and pretends it isn't one of the most erotic things she's ever experienced to have him finish in her mouth. But without trying, her husband is purely erotic. His fingers are twisting and twisting inside of her, his tongue flicking her clit as he sucks it into his hot and inviting mouth.

He mumbles a garbled, flesh-hummed "I love you" and shoots off into her waiting mouth and throat. She's swallowing his approval of her actions and can't say she loves him too, so she settles for taking her left hand from his testicles and digging them into the skin of his thigh, letting him know she's almost there.

Olivia let's his dick slide from her mouth when she realizes that he's too sated to come again. He's quick in his motions as he pushes her off of him, and onto the bed horizontally. She watches his arms flex when he pushes her thighs open and he goes right back to work, his fingers and his mouth working double time to make her reach that blissful peak. Her hand is on the back of his head, urging him to get that much closer. She's crying out, writhing in the white sheets and strewn blankets, with Elliot between her legs making it all happen.

She gets his arrogance.

Because he's the only one who can get her off this quickly. The breath leaves her lungs when she tips over her metaphorical cliff, and into the powerful, orgasmic waves he brings to her. Her back arches forward and before her head slams back into the mattress, she catches a glance at his face. The playfulness that's returned, the love and affection that she hopes will always be there, and lust. It's all too much for her in this instance, and she closes her eyes.

Once she's calmed down slightly, he retracts his fingers from her slick heat. She knows the suckling sound she hears is him tasting her on his two digits. Her thighs are still spreading unashamedly apart, and she is so damn sensitive when his dick brushes against her clit as he settles on top of her. She opens her eyes to see him staring at her, his eyelids heavy and his lips curled into a half smile. "Good morning." Elliot hums, so close to her that she gives into the automatic want to close her eyes. Her lips are parted, and he sees no shame in sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

The thing is, there is no shame between them, ever.

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><p>Elliot treats her like a princess. Although she continuously says it's fine, she doesn't need to be treated like royalty, there's some part of her that loves how attentive he is to her. He had not only started the shower for her, but he got in there with her, which wasn't uncommon for them, and washed her entire body. She had chuckled at how corny they could be, but she's fucking lucky to have a man like him. After returning the favor and washing his body in between kisses, they got dressed together and he led her to the hammock that hangs between two tropical Fiji trees.<p>

Now they lay on their sides, with his chin tucked into her neck, and their fingers synched together on her stomach. In an hour or so, they'll go into the main part of the hotel and have something to eat, but for now, it's perfect. She doesn't know if his eyes are closed or not. But hers are transfixed on the waves crashing into the shore and how much it relates to their life.

Things were spiraling, repeating, over and over again. They'd fight, the case closed, they'd make up. One of them would let something a little too close to home slip from their lips, and they'd fight again. She could barely stand the tension, then. They still disagree from time to time, but not as much as when they weren't together. But as the waves bubble and smooth out on the sand, a tear slides from the corner of her eye. Everything smooths out in the end, but she still regrets the fights and the lies.

She's forgiven herself, but she'll never forget. For now, she takes a deep breath and squeezes his fingers tighter. Her plans for the rest of the day only involve one thing, and that one thing is the reason why she's on this foreign island today.

Elliot.

More importantly, thanking him in unspoken ways and actions.

**A/N: Don't shy away from that review button. I know you can make sweet, clicking love to it... ;) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters. **

**A/N: The poem below is something I found that reminded me so much of E/O in this fic. Enjoy this chapter, folks! **

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><p>Frost webs on our windowpane;<p>

Your skin on my skin;

Warm beneath the sheets—

Lie with me, lover.

Lie a while longer.

Our house lies sleeping too.

Listen.

Hear that?

Barely audible, or

another sense altogether,

Just beneath

our breathing,

the humming fridge,

morning traffic—

The dead, they whisper:

_No work that will not wait_

_'til tomorrow._

- Heather Grace Stewart

She had so many plans. They had breakfast at the hotel and ventured into town, exploring the culture and shops around the secluded place. She couldn't get enough of it. The laid back nature of everyone hit her hard, but not in a bad way. In a sense, she pictured Elliot and herself visiting again someday.

At lunch, they had stopped at a small cafe and through all the chatter of other customers, he managed to catch her attention from across the booth with the brush of his fingers on her thigh, over the floor-length summer dress she _was_ wearing. They had drank two bottles of wine, she remembers, and even how they got home is a little hazy. Two bottles of wine usually only has a bit of an effect on them, but after they finished their second bottle, they knew they were in trouble.

But instead of Elliot getting in the waiter's face about it, he pulled her into his side of the booth and kissed her. The way he had ran his fingers through her hair drove her to move her hands over his chest, covered in a light button up shirt. He'd whispered in her ear that he wanted to take her then, and they couldn't get out of the restaurant fast enough.

Which brings her back to their current moment. Her earlier plans to give him a massage and do absolutely anything he wanted after that were thrown out the window, and instead, she's naked on the couch, pulling Elliot's underwear fully off of his body. He chuckles as she awkwardly straddles him, her weight swaying far too wildly with the alcohol in her system. Maybe they shouldn't be doing this now, but he's hard beneath her and she's too turned on to stop her actions now.

She guides him into her, sinking down slowly to rest her thighs on his. They both moan, and Olivia let's a shiver run down her spine. She loves when he's deep, deep inside of her like this. Resting her hands on his chest, she moves her hips up, then down. She's trying so desperately to not lose control and ride him hard and fast. But fuck, he's got his hands on her hips and as she rises on him again, she catches his eye. His gaze is so heated, so full of every emotion she had been praying he would feel, prior to them getting together. Maybe it's just the wine. She laughs at the thought. She's all fuzzy around the edges. It feels good to be spontaneous.

His cheeks are a little pink, and she sees a flash of that fucking smile she loves so much. Usually, he doesn't smile with his teeth. But she guesses he's in such a euphoria, he's got no choice but to be happy. She winks at him and rises again, this time squeezing her innermost muscles around him.

"Olivia," He grates out, his fingers biting into the skin of her hips. "Fuck, I love you."

Her heart flutters and pounds at his words, and she leans down, kissing just below his ear, missing his face completely in her tipsiness. "I love you too," She smirks, licking a trail down his neck. "Stop distracting me." They both chuckle as she leans up, a smile gracing her face. Her body moves in waves while she rocks on him, making him grunt, making him harder. They haven't gotten drunk in a long time, and although they'll pay for it in the morning, she's aware they both have a soft spot for getting a good buzz and just feeling each other.

His left hand caresses upwards from her hip to her breast, tweaking and teasing her nipple before going higher, onto her face. As she bounces on him, his hand attempts to keep steady but fails, his middle finger landing between her teeth. Her laughter is loud in his ear when she flops back down on him, and just rest. At least, _she_ plans to.

Elliot thrusts hard up into her, and at the same time, he pulls her hips down. She cries out in pleasure, and he moans in her ear, "I can't stop, baby..." with another thrust of his hips. Her eyes roll back and she slowly rises on him again, this time using his chest as major leverage for her intoxicated body. She lets her head fall back as she gets lost in the feeling of rising and falling while he thrusts into her in between. Unconsciously, her nails scrape his skin while she bites her lip as the signs of her approaching climax appear.

Heat. She feels it in his stare, and it only increases with each thrust, each moan that passes their lips. He had looked at her like this in the restaurant and she became powerless to him. When his eyes get that dark, she can't help the wetness that forms between her legs. Their relationship these days is nothing if not powerful, breathtaking. He looks at her like she's worth everything and tries his hardest to make her feel that way as well. But she's not sure if she'll ever be able to shake the feeling she got when he was still married. Like she was worthless.

He sits up, wrapping his arms around her. Comfort. "You think too much when you've been drinking." His voice is so soft in her ear, so gentle. She folds her arms around his neck and grasps his neck, leaning her head on his shoulder. One of his hands is firm on her spine, moving her forward and back again. The friction it causes on Olivia's sensitive bundle of nerves causes her legs to begin shaking. She knows when he drinks, he gets a filthy mouth on him, and it sends a rush of wetness between her thighs that he loves so much. "C'mon, Liv... Come for me."

She's so taken by this moment. He's filling her so deeply that it takes the breath right out of her lungs. His movements, although she moves as well, are slow and deliberate. Even in his drunken state, he takes his time, and it's what she loves about him. He sees no rush in their relationship, in the love and commitment they share.

Her hips demand contact, demand that little bit more physicality to send her hurling over the edge. The hotel's couch squeaks with their efforts, and it brings her back to where they really are. Married. In a tropical republic; more specifically, in a hotel room having drunken sex with her husband.

Hell yes, she deserves this.

Olivia's thighs are open to him, sheen with a thin layer of sweat, as is the rest of her body, and Elliot's. He licks a trail up the crux of her neck, to the shell of her ear. She shatters then, clinging to his slick, sticky back. Her cries and moans are reduced to just murmurs in his shoulder, in his skin that smells of the soap they shared in the shower, and a musk she can only describe as him.

She hears him choke on his breath, and feels the unmistakable sensation of him releasing deep inside of her. They fall back onto the couch, and almost immediately, they both begin to relax into such a state she knows sleep is just a matter of minutes or even seconds away, but she won't have it.

"El-" Olivia begins to protest, but with her head against his upper chest, it's easy for his finger to fall against her cheek, it's intention her lips. She laughs softly.

"Too tired to move, baby." His voice is rough, and indeed tired sounding.

She smiles and kisses his cheek, thanking the warm weather for their ability to stay like this without freezing. There's a throw on the back of the couch, but even she is too tired, too drunk, too lazy to grab it. "You'll regret staying like this in the morning."

"So will you."

* * *

><p>Sometime in the night, Elliot had woken up and without a second thought, picked her up and carted her the twenty feet from the couch to the bed. She hadn't opened her eyes, but when he laid down beside her, she lifted her head onto his chest and fell back asleep to the soft snoring of her husband.<p>

But this time when he awakens and pushes up from the bed, she opens her eyes. She watches his bare, muscled ass flex as he walks away from her, and she assumes in the kitchen. Her laughter bubbles up and she quickly buries her face in his pillow, letting her chuckling calm down before she brings her face back up.

The ever familiar sound of Elliot taking out cups from the kitchen cupboards echoes throughout their hotel room. She rises to her feet and pads silently to the door, feeling her nipples pebble while the small amount of wind caused by her movement hits her naked body.

"Torna a letto, El."_ "Come back to bed, El."_ She whispers, closing the space between them. Her arms wrap around him from behind, and her mouth presses against the back of his neck.

Elliot breathes deeply, his chest expanding and making her arms tighter around him."Volevo solo un caffè." _"Just wanted some coffee."_ He turns in her arms, holding her face in his strong hands. She can't manage to breathe properly when he looks at her and a smile spreads across his gorgeous face.

It seems like another life when she thought being this close to him would cause her to erupt. Now, when he tugs her up slightly and takes possession of her mouth, she's comfortable. He'll always manage to take her breath away. She laughs against his mouth again, so taken by the situation and how mundane they've become. Through her laughter, she spots the coffee brewing to her right and reaches, switching it off.

He lifts her onto the counter, the sudden movement making her dizzy in her hung over state. They both moan in pain, leaning on each other for support. "I'm too old for this," Elliot chastistes into her hair, his fingers gripping her hips while he lifts her back into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist on their own violation along with her arms grabbing onto him as they were last night.

_Last night._

She tries to hide the arousal that rips through her. The way he moved inside of her was incredible and the most recent memory of them together. Both of those factors are making her ache, but she's so tired. She needs sleep, her husband's arms, the warm and inviting bed they've been sleeping in for the past four nights.

That reminds her, they've only got a week and a bit left until they go home. Even though New York is where home truly is, she can't help but want to stay here and just be selfish. She wants it to just be her and Elliot for a while longer. They don't have to worry about waking Eli, or one of the twins walking in.

He sets her down on the bed, slyly letting his right hand drag between her thighs. "Jesus, Liv..." She closes her thighs, however. His eyes dart to hers just as she covers a yawn with her hand. His laughter is a hard, singular chuckle. Olivia lets him get comfortable beside her. He pulls the blanket up their shoulders, although they'll probably end up throwing the covers off within the next hour or two when the sun is at it's highest. Her head and arm are draped over him while he kisses her head.

Before she slips into her slumber, his fingers work through her hair. It reminds her just how human they are. They're mundane in their marriage because they're both emotionally exhausted from playing everyday heroes.

Her last thought before she falls asleep is, _Let me wake up and not have this all be a dream._

**A/N: Next chapter; Elliot and Olivia have a conversation about their honeymoon and when making breakfast, someone breaks something. **

**Twitter: viperraps**_  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or its characters.**

**A/N: Here's the final chapter. I struggled with it, but I hope you all like it. **

* * *

><p>When his arms are around her, it's when she feels the safest.<p>

She's elbowed him a few times in the mix, but they're getting there. The crown of the pineapple is gone, and she's disposed of the base with his help, though she didn't need it. Once she'd cut off the rind, Elliot left her momentarily to grab a paring knife and he went to work.

The way his muscles bunch is distracting her.

He manipulates the knife around and throughout the pineapple, but her eyes are glued to his back. His shirt is on the bed in the other room, and it leaves him open to be gawked at by his wife. She gasps quietly while watching his skin prickle, and nearly jumps when he murmurs.

"Liv," Elliot grates, looking over his shoulder at her. "You're staring."

She drops her head and chuckles, straightening her silk robe. She's a glutton for deep blue material against her skin. There's something comforting in the color, the way it opposes her eye color and when Elliot's body molds into hers, it matches his. It strikes something within them both.

"Well, I thought this would be a team effort..." Olivia teases, gesturing to his hands on the cutting board. His smirk is a given, his opening arms welcoming. His hand covers hers over the knife, and they cut the final piece together. It makes her heart tighten in the slightest, almost comforting way.

There's something different between them tonight. She whimpers quietly as he brings the piece to her mouth. She fits her lips around his fingers, closing her eyes and giving an appreciative moan. He brings his lips to his wife's ears, pushing a shiver down her spine.

"Sweet?" He says in a voice, laced with the faintest hint of desire.

"Mmm..." is all she can manage. His lips find a home on her neck, as she finishes savoring the fruit. She smiles sweetly, and tips her head back onto his shoulder. He turns his head quickly, capturing her upper lip between his.

His possessive nature is usually well hidden, but she feels it in his kiss. She ignores the butterflies in her stomach and takes his hand tentatively, entwining their fingers. They part her silk robe and move down toward her swollen, wet lips. Together they massage her, and as her knees begin to give way, Elliot wraps his right arm around her front to hold her up.

He slips his other hand, previously toying with her clit, up to shed her of the robe. "Liv," he grounds out against her lips, his voice significantly thicker now. There's something unmistakeably sexy about the way he says it. She can smell herself on him and his own aftershave, with each brush of his lips on hers.

It sends her heart into overdrive.

They've been together for a while now. That doesn't change her body's reaction to him. The blood still surges through her veins at a rate that should be dangerous. He still steals the words from her mouth before she can open it. She's youthful with him.

He's taken off her single article of clothing, and has spun her around and pressed her into the kitchen counter. Eagerly, Olivia pulls at the waistband of his jeans. She wants him against her, on her, in her. It's one of her favorite past times; surrounding herself and being consumed by just him.

His lips and teeth nip her neck, at a spot just below her ear she'd once confessed made her knees go weak. Earlier in their relationship, they were nearly uncontrollable around each other. Just a tiny thing would ignite their fire, and just like that- their mouths and hands would fly.

"Hop up," Elliot murmurs, right near her ear.

She can feel it then: the shift. It comes over them like a storm and memories from last night, and all the other times they just couldn't wait, are surfaced. Her bottom is on the counter right away, as are his lips on her torso. A moan escapes her mouth again while she leans back and just feels him tonguing across her chest and down over her belly button, to the smooth, shaven flesh of her mound.

Her immediate reaction is the need to kick out her legs, jump out of her skin. But he doesn't give her a change to, instead taking her thighs in his hands. She's staring at the ceiling with one hand in his hair and the other teasing her breast, and a laugh escapes her mouth before she's come to realize it. It's quiet and he joins in, knowing that she still gets a little nervous when his mouth moves over her like this. She's frightened she'll embarrass herself, more than anything else. Her only fear with Elliot has always been just that- herself.

She's nearly got the strength up to say something when he does for her. "Relax, baby."

Olivia doesn't know quite what to do now, but he has her answer. His tongue laps at her in its silent assault on her. The heat rushes through her body at an incredible rate. She's a glutton for having him where he is rght now, ever since their first time. He lowered his mouth and licked and sucked until she cried out, writhing on her bed as she selfishly clutched onto him.

Tomorrow he'll probably give off a couple of hints that he'd love a back massage, because he's bent at an awkward angle for her. He moans into her skin, forcing the vibration through her body.

And then he's raising up and bending again, grasping at her hair and tugging softly. Her breathing is erratic as she sits up, immediately feeling his length pressing into her right thigh. Elliot soothes his temporary roughness with his deep kisses and gentle aura while sheathing himself inside of her.

It stuns her and gives her that sense of content she loves.

* * *

><p>He's got an idea of what she thinks about when he's got his mouth on such a sacred place. She gives it away the second she looks in his eyes. For now, he'll let her be, because she's trying to push it aside and he's too hard right now.<p>

"Tell me later." His statement is simple and she nods into his neck, just a second before he thrusts again. She makes a sound he's never heard before. She's tightening around him, and he pulls back to look at her expression.

Olivia's mouth is parted as her breath comes in pants. Her eyebrows are screwed together in concentration, frustration, urgency. He can feel her heartbeat inside of her, and it's all so erotic that he feels the tight hold on his control begin to slip.

He exhales shakily, thrusting harder and faster. Olivia continues to moan, and it only spurs him to his breaking point further. "You love it when I give you every inch,"

Elliot watches her eyes light with fire, and grins.

* * *

><p>She loves it when he talks to her like this; lays claims to her body so boldly. His mouth sears her skin and she whimpers her reply. With each punishing thrust, he tells her she's his.<p>

She loves the slow, gentle lovemaking with him, but there's something so primal about the way he lets go with her sometimes.

She wants to tell him how much she loves it when he pushes into her like this, demanding and unhindered. The pleasure is overwhelming as it starts to simmer deep in the pit of her belly. His eyes are on her, watching her every convulsion, as her body comes undone beneath him. The love in his gaze is what grounds her. There's no gravity, no expanse of counter top below their naked bodies. It's all lost to the love and sweet, wet bliss between their frenzied bodies.

He slides his hands up her back and pulls her into his embrace. He claims her with the soft, passionate movement of his lips and tongue against her mouth, and his aching member sinks into her at such a delicious angle, that her eyes widen and she moans hotly into his kiss.

She feels herself tightening around him, and at the same time, his hands gently guide her back to the counter top.

"Lie back, baby. I wanna look at you," his voice is low and seductive.

"Ohh, touch me," she whispers, as his hands make their way up to her bouncing breasts.

She knows he thinks it sexy when she begs for him as she reaches her peak. He wants to tease her, just so he can hear more of that desperate desire in her voice, but he's so damn close, himself, there's no point in staving off her release, because God, he loves to watch that. She knows all of this.

He brings a hand to his mouth and wets two of his fingers with his tongue, before settling them between his wife's legs and massaging her gently.

"Oh yes, right there," she groans. Her breathing becomes ragged with each swipe of his fingers over that sweet spot, in time with his thrusts.

"Uhhh..." She hears him groan, but his figure is blurred in her barely open eyes. "Oh God," he grits, pulling out and wrapping his fingers around his cock, still slick with Olivia's want.

He begins to stroke himself vigorously, but her hand reaches for him. She loves the feeling of his release so hot inside her body, but she's always wanted to watch him finish when he's not buried deep within her. She told him that once, and she loves that he remembers these things.

He's warm and wet from her, and so hard when she touches him. She guides him back to her, and runs the tip along her slick folds before she works her fingers along him.

"You like it when I touch you like that?" Her voice is barely above a whisper.

He squeezes his eyes shut as she swipes over his head with her thumb.

"Yes," he moans.

She tightens her grip around him, and watches his face twist in perfect agony. "You like the way that feels? Mmm, you like me nice and tight around you, baby?"

"God yes." He's all power and movement, when he's on her; in her. It's the perfect shift in their dynamic that he's finally primed and ready for release in her hands. She loves the feeling of having him at her mercy, if only for a few moments. It makes her happy to know he's got a little taste of how her body reacts to him.

She's sitting up now, stroking him slowly, gently. She presses her lips to his temple. "You want it?"

"Huuuh…" he moans.

"Yeah?" She draws the words out, watching the desire fit across his face. "How bad?"

Her hands are soft, and her voice is sinful. His pride is taking a serious hit. His moans grow frustrated as her hand slows on him. It's torture, she thinks- the power she wields over him when she's naked and touching him. It's unfair, and she knows just what she's doing to him. "Just say it, baby, and I'll give you what you want."

His eyes squeeze shut just a little tighter, and the laugh she gives him tells him, she's not going to be the one to surrender. "Say the word, Elliot." Her voice is low, and his cock is twitching in her hand. "Tell me you want it, baby, and I'll give it to you."

"Liv-"

"Yes, baby, I'm right here," she says softly, stopping her movements altogether, and tightening her grip on him.

"Please?" he groans out. She smiles then and her hand resumes its movement. "Oh God," he yells, as his control starts to slip. He pounds his fist into the cabinet above Olivia's head and he shoots hotly onto her stomach. "Yes…" His body shakes as he empties himself for her.

He finishes and she smiles gently at him. She looks down at the sticky mess on her stomach, and chuckles a little. Without pretense, he hoists her up off the counter, by her hips, and kisses her hard. Her fingers are still on him, and she uses her grip to lead him over to the fridge.

The cool steel feels wonderful against her back.

His arms are on either side of her head as she strokes him while they kiss. Her body begins to slide down the fridge, and before either can register the change of scenery, she's on the floor and he's on her again, with his head between her legs.

"I want a taste," she whispers. He draws his tongue over her wet lips and presses a few sporadic kisses atop her mound, sliding his tongue up, over her stomach, cleaning the trail of sticky fluid he's marked her with. She shivers, when he moves up and flicks one of her nipples with his tongue. "Baby…" she pleads softly.

"Not now, I'm busy." he chastises. His words are muffled by the soft flesh of her breast, but he brings a finger to his mouth, sucks on it for a moment, and slides it up to hers, so she can sample the perfect blend of his flavor and hers. She wraps her mouth around the finger and swirls her tongue, tasting them.

She smiles around his finger.

Then he's retracting it, moving down her body again.

He licks hungrily at her, lifting her legs onto his shoulders as he completely flattens himself out on the floor. She arches, whimpering his name. Within her she feels a powerful orgasm rising, and it's because of the loss of control they sometimes crave.

Because when the rules no longer matter, all that's left, is bliss.

_finis_


End file.
